


HIM

by greyspace12



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Arus, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Castle of Lions is a dance studio, Competitive Dance - Freeform, Dancer Allura, Dancer Lance, Dancer!Allura, Dancer!Keith, Each Chapter title is a song title, Female pronouns for Pidge, Gay Keith (Voltron), High School, M/M, Song fic, Voltron is a dance team, dance au, dancer keith, dancer!lance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-06-28 22:07:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15716028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyspace12/pseuds/greyspace12
Summary: "In this moment, it’s as if two puzzle pieces are clicking together. No one on his team had ever truly matched Lance’s style. Hunk and Pidge had come close and if Lance needed to partner with someone, he went to them in an instant but Hunk and Pidge danced much better together than Lance and Hunk or Lance and Pidge ever could. Yet, here, Lance felt like he had found his match. When Lance pushed, Keith pulled. Where Keith gave, Lance took. Sam Smith’s voice was white noise and the very feeling of the music had creeped its way into Lance’s mind. When he moved, he had no control. All of his movements were instinctual and Keith was right there to match them."-----------------------------Lance is highly competitive everywhere except his dance studio. He knows who is within this studio but, a new guy shows up to try and take what Lance thinks of as his spot within the team. However, he makes an unexpected connection on the dance floor that he just can't ignore.





	1. HIM

Lance had grown up competing. From the day he was born, Lance was competing for his parent’s attention or for a turn on the X-Box or for the last piece of bacon at breakfast. He had to do everything  _ fast, fast, fast _ or he’d never have a chance at getting what he wanted. Everything was a race: getting the hot water in the shower, asking his mom if Hunk could sleep over before Veronica could ask her friend. Lance lived his life always half-cocked, ready to shoot off like a rocket if it meant he got what he deserved or wanted. He had to elbow and shove his way through life for anyone to spare him a second glance. Lance grew to be loud and dramatic, causing a scene so someone would fucking notice him. If any of his friends described him, the first word they would use would be loud and the second would be competitive. In this life, that was the only way things were going to happen for him.

Except for one place. On stage, with the judges staring intently up at him, the competitive adrenaline coursed through his veins but Lance had learned years ago how to beat that back with a stick so it didn’t throw off his routine. But when he’s at the barre or going across the floor, that competitive edge fades away into an intense focus. Each movement of his body is carefully calculated as he goes through his warm up, each step getting harder and harder as he goes. There’s a precision to his movements during tap that he lacks outside of the studio and when he steps into hip hop, all of his bravado melts into the a natural cool that he doesn’t usually tap into it. Dance has always been the place where he doesn’t need to compete. There was no need for him to prove himself because he knew he was good. Lance didn’t feel the instinctual need to be the best that he felt in every other aspect of his life because he was one of the best. Was that vain? Probably. Was it the truth? Yes. 

He needed this though. He needed this one area of his life where he felt confident and knew he excellent. The rest of his life was shrouded in uncertainty and second place medals but when he got on stage and the music started playing, he could feel the overall high score award in his bones. Lance was always falling short academically- his tests were often marked with 78’s and C minuses while Hunk always got a big fat A- but when his teacher needed someone to demonstrate a particularly difficult step, Lance rose to the occasion.

The Castle of Lions dance studio was the one place Lance felt the most himself. It was the most consistent part of his life. He had been dancing with the people on his team for years now with only a couple of additions over the years. The studio was his home; these people were his family. His family was a constant pillar of strength. 

So when he waltzes through the doors with the expectations that his Wednesday night classes would be the same as they always were, he is most definitely not prepared for the music he hears streaming through Studio A. 

Lance often subbed in for other teachers so Allura had given him a key to get into the studio. He took full advantage of this and showed up to class half an hour early or more everyday to stretch or to just soak in the atmosphere. Readjusting his grip on his duffel, Lance snuck up to the closed doors of the studio. Through the small window, Lance could see Allura with her hair loose around her shoulders standing up at the front by the mirrors, a pleased smile on her face. He recognized the song, “River” by Bishop Briggs, but he most definitely did not recognize the guy dancing to it. 

A short ponytail sat at the base of his neck and the guy’s white shirt clung to him, see through from sweat in some parts. Lance found himself watching the guy’s movements with rapt attention. His body moved with a comfortable fluidity, elbows and knees striking out on the down beats. There was a practiced ease to the way the guy used the studio space. He took full advantage of its depth, moving and rolling towards the mirrors and back. Lance watched as the guy slid over the floor, one leg coming up to snap over his head. He flipped over onto his hands, that same leg swinging out to arch over his head in a stunning attitude. Muscles rippled in his arms, exposed by the tank top and the black joggers he wore didn’t hide the tight ass or strong calves.

Lance was very flexible in a way lots of guys weren’t. This was not one of those guys. This guy seemed to be about Lance’s age, 17 or 18, and moved like he had been born in a dance studio. A bitter jealousy crept its way up Lance’s spine. This guy probably started dancing when he was 3 or 4; Lance started dance when he was 7 which was really late by normal dance standards. Luckily, Lance had a natural talent for this and an unwavering determination to be good. He struggled to push the feeling down and out of his mind. The guy’s movements stopped and a beat later, Allura was pausing the music. 

“That was amazing Keith!” Keith. Now mystery man had a name. Keith nodded and walked over to what was presumably his bag and pulled a towel out of it. He draped it around his neck while Allura continued to talk. “I’ll have to thank Shiro for speaking so highly of our studio.” Wait this guy knew Shiro? This just isn't fair. Lance had gotten used to being one of the few guys at the studio and he couldn’t help but be threatened by Keith’s talent and connections. 

Through the window, Allura caught Lance’s eye and internally he cursed. Allura was going to call him out for being creepy and he really didn’t want a famous Allura Altea lecture. However, in a surprising turn of events, Allura gestured for him to come in. Keith followed Allura’s eyesight and Lance’s breath caught in his throat. With sharp planes making up the contours of his face and unmarked pale skin, Keith was stunning. Fuck this guy, he really was coming for what Lance took pride in. Taking a deep breath, Lance entered the studio. He gave Allura a confused look and dropped his bag by the doors.

“Lance, this is Keith Kogane. He’s doing an audition to join our company.”

“In the middle of the season?” Lance couldn’t help but ask. Allura fixed him with a pointed look and an embarrassed blush crept over his neck. “Um, hey man. I’m Lance McClain,” Lance said to Keith, extending his hand towards him. Keith simply stared at his hand and Lance let it drop by his side awkwardly. “Okay then… What’s up Allura? I didn’t mean to interrupt an audition.” 

Allura shook her head, walking back over to the speaker. “Not at all Lance; you actually have excellent timing. I was hoping that you would improv with Keith.”

“What?” Lance choked out, completely caught off guard. A quick glance at Keith told him he was having the same reaction and maybe he was imagining it but Lance could have sworn Keith was blushing. The red tint to his skin though was probably just from overexerting himself during his routine. 

“During our normal auditions, I am able to see how everyone flows together as a unit. In this scenario, I can’t see how Keith would operate within our team. You encompass such a large part of Voltron’s style that this is the perfect opportunity to see how Keith would fit in,” Allura explained and Lance couldn’t argue with that logic. 

He turned to Keith, hands on his hips. “I’m down if you are.”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I? Not if I want to be on this team anyway,” Keith sighed, voice resigned. Lance bristled but forced a smile on his face. He had to do this for his team. If Keith couldn’t flow with him then Lance wouldn’t be forced to interact with him again, or at least that’s what he hoped. 

“No, you don’t,” Allura chimed in with a smile. “Now, does contemporary work for you two?” Lance nodded and saw Keith do the same. “Excellent. I’m going to put on a song and I want you to just flow with it. Get out of your heads, forget this is an audition, and just move. Lance, would you start us off?” He nodded, dropping down into a deep second position to stretch quickly while Allura found a song. He quickly went through his calves and hamstrings, he swung out his hip flexors, and he stretched up towards the ceiling to relieve some of the tension in his back muscles. It was irresponsible to dance without properly warming up but as long as he didn’t push too hard, he should be fine.

The thought made Lance laugh. He always pushed too hard, even when he shouldn’t. He was never very good at taking care of himself, especially when he was injured. He pushed and pushed and it took everyone yelling at him for him to sit out a class to rest his twisted ankle or pulled hamstring. With a nod to Allura, she pressed play on the song. 

Lance couldn’t resist the smile that grew on his face as the voices of a choir rang out from the speaker. He’d always felt a connection to Sam Smith and the smooth, velvety tones of his voice always managed to put Lance’s nerves at ease. There was a bing in the music and Lance dropped to his knees. As Sam Smith began to sing, Lance started to move, limbs controlled by some higher power. He crawled out to the side, away from Keith was bobbing his head to the music, and rolled over onto his back. He continued moving, sitting up, then falling back onto the floor before pulling up his limbs one by one until he was sitting with his arms draped over his knees. His arms reached out in front of him as his knees swung underneath him and he collapsed onto the floor, arms still out stretched. Slowly, Lance pulled back so he was sitting on his ankles with his head tucked low. Cold fingers pressed under his chin, guiding it up so Lance was looking straight at Keith. 

He snakes to the side, wrapping an arm around Keith’s waist and using it to pull himself up to his feet. Keith wraps himself around Lance, pulling him up so the taller boy is leaning against Keith’s chest. Under his fingertips, Lance feels the infuriatingly soft skin of Keith’s face as they travel down his cheeks. With any other partner, Lance would have felt slightly insecure about something so intimate but for some reason, Lance doesn’t feel timid. There’s a feeling in the air like Lance and Keith have danced together for years when in actuality Lance has known this guy for maybe two minutes. 

In this moment, it’s as if two puzzle pieces are clicking together. No one on his team had ever truly matched Lance’s style. Hunk and Pidge had come close and if Lance needed to partner with someone, he went to them in an instant but Hunk and Pidge danced much better together than Lance and Hunk or Lance and Pidge ever could. Yet, here, Lance felt like he had found his match. When Lance pushed, Keith pulled. Where Keith gave, Lance took. Sam Smith’s voice was white noise and the very feeling of the music had creeped its way into Lance’s mind. When he moved, he had no control. All of his movements were instinctual and Keith was right there to match them. Trust was heavy in the air and Lance knew with absolute surety that Keith would be right there to support his legs as he wrapped them around his waist, Lance’s chest on Keith’s back.  

Time slipped away and became meaningless. They could have been dancing together for hours and it would have felt like minutes to Lance. Lance ducked and swerved out of Keith’s grip as Keith’s pale hands stretched out for him. While he couldn’t see the story they were making, he could feel it. In between them stretched the tale of Lance, a young boy who had complete faith in God, and Keith, the boy Lance loved. In moments of weakness, as Lance slid down Keith’s body to the floor, Lance gave into the unsure feelings and questioned his own sexuality. Keith would be right behind him though, ready to pick him up off the floor and pull him out of the darkness. Fear and love stretched between them as Lance and Keith moved and flowed. 

Suddenly, their faces are  _ close, close, close _ . Their breaths were mingling together and Keith’s breath was hot and panting on Lance’s face. Keith had a hand wrapped around Lance’s neck, keeping their foreheads pressed together. He can’t help the way his gaze drops down to Keith’s lips, the pink skin there bitten and chapped but still probably impossibly soft. To escape his grip and that dangerous line of thinking, Lance sneaks out from under Keith’s hand but not before his cold fingers leave chills down Lance’s spine. He can still feel the graze of Keith’s fingers long after that moment.

At one point, Lance caught Allura’s expression. She had such an awed look on her face and was watching the pair with rapt attention. It was probably how Lance looked when he watched her dance. Allura had been an inspiration for Lance for so long that being able to make her look like that while he danced made a warm feeling explode in his chest. 

In a big sweeping movement, Lance flung himself back and he felt the muscles in his back pull in protest. For a terrifying moment, Lance was worried his back was going to give out on him and he would end up collapsed on the floor, possibly pulling a muscle in his back. He shouldn’t have been afraid though because just like all the other times, Keith was too him in an instant, hands supporting his back. Through no words at all, Keith and Lance lowered to the floor. Keith ended on his knees, Lance’s head pillowed on his lap.

Both boy’s chests were pounding and Lance knew a gross sheen of sweat was covering his skin. Keith’s forehead was shiny too though and his shirt stuck to his skin in some places so Lance didn’t feel too bad about the damp feeling on his arms. Keith’s eyes were wide, an almost wondrous look in them as he stared at Lance. Lance was sure he had a similar look in his eye. Distantly, he was aware of the music stopping, That feeling was still thick and heavy between the two boys and Lance found himself clinging to it.

This was why he danced. He danced for the story, for the feeling of satisfaction that came with telling it. He danced to explain his feelings when his words couldn’t and just then, he was talking about all of the things he had never been able to talk about. He was comfortable in his sexuality but dancing just then, with Keith, validated them in a way he wasn’t prepared for. Part of that came from the song Allura had chosen but a much larger part came from having someone to always catch his back- quite literally. 

“That was… truly amazing to watch.” Allura’s voice cut through the moment, breaking the tension. Blood rushed to Lance’s face and he was suddenly quite aware of how his head was still on Keith’s lap. He rolled off it, coming to his feet. He held out a hand to Keith who took it this time, using it to stand up. Maybe it was his imagination acting up again but Lance could have sworn Keith’s fingers lingered against Lance’s. 

“Uh, yeah. That was, um, … really good,” Lance said, hand rubbing the back of his neck. Keith nodded, shuffling his feet on the floor. Lance turned to Allura, a smile blooming on his face. “Now if I were you Allura, I’d let this guy on the team before someone else gets him.” 

Allura nodded. “You are quite right Lance. So, Keith, what do you say? Would you like to join our team? I think you would make an excellent addition.”

Lance turned to Keith, an expectant look on his face. A corner of Keith’s mouth pulled up in the closest thing to a smile Lance had seen from the guy so far. “I auditioned didn’t I?”

Lance’s smile faltered. Ah yes, Lance forgot he had this charming side to him. Keith sighed and seemed to realize how that sounded. “Sorry. Yes, I’d like to join your company.”

Allura smiled and held out her hand and Keith hesitantly shook it. “Keith Kogane, welcome to Voltron.”


	2. I Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's first day of school starts off horribly annoying and ends with the promise of something great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I lied! I told myself that I wasn't going to make this multi-chaptered but here I am. For those that read Cold Blooded, there's a good chance I'm going to delete that and rework it into a chapter in this fic. Sorry if that's sad for some people but, I think it will be better overall! Thank you for coming back and I hope you enjoy!

Walking into the school building Monday morning was a very weird experience. He remembered this place from when he was younger when Shiro went here and before Keith and his dad moved about an hour away. He had very vague memories of being six years old and watching freshman Shiro wave at him as he hopped out of the front seat of their Dad’s pick up truck and walking through the glass doors. Keith hadn’t cried but he had wanted to so instead he pouted the whole way home. His dad never made a move to comfort him except for a hand that he squeezed Keith’s shoulder with then patted his arm a couple times before letting it drop to the gear shift between them. They had never needed very many words.

  
Now Keith was here as a student himself and it felt like some really strange form of deja vu. Kids laughed and screamed and Keith had run through multiple people about to hug in the middle of the goddamn hallway. Thankfully, there were signs posted everywhere, telling him where to go as he tried to find the main office to pick up his schedule. Once he got there though, the old lady behind the desk smiled at him and said, “Oh no honey, you need to go to your counselor in student services,” and pointed back out the door. Without waiting for instructions on how to get there, Keith nodded once and then turned and walked right back out the doors he had walked through less than two minutes ago. Why the fuck were there so many departments in the school? There were too many damn doors.  
He must have looked really lost which irritated him to end because someone who was probably an administrator took pity on him and pointed him in the right direction. Overhead, he heard the bell for first-period ring and Keith sighed; he hated being late for things. Pushing through this new set of doors, Keith was greeted with a vaguely familiar figure. Tall and lanky with messy brown hair that didn’t seem to sit flat. For a second, Keith couldn’t place the form but then it clicked. Standing in front of him was Lance McClain, a.k.a. the boy that had kind of rocked Keith’s world on Saturday.

  
When he moved here, Keith’s first priority was finding a studio. Dancing had been the one constant in his life since he was two and he wasn’t about to give that up because his dad had decided to play the hero. Luckily, Shiro had been a dancer as well and got him an audition with the Castle of Lions. Normally, Keith was impulsive and reckless and went into things blind but with something like this, he took the time to look into this studio. If he was going to spend his senior year dancing and competing somewhere, they had better be good. With a name like Castle of Lions, he wasn’t expecting much but damn was he wrong. It turns out they were nationally ranked and were best in the state, followed closely by what looked to be a rival studio, the Galra.

  
Once he found one of their competition videos, Keith fell down a wormhole of this studio. Along the way, he figured out that their competitive team was called Voltron and was really damn good. Dancers were expected to be precise and to perform in unison. If someone was off a count or messed up the choreography, it was all over and the dance would place poorly. But what got lost so often in the competitive dance world was the artistry. Choreographers and dancers got caught up in winning and forgot to tell stories and have fun. Clearly, though, this was not lost on Voltron. Every dance they performed had some story or message that they told with new movements Keith hadn’t really seen before.

  
And damn did they know how to have fun. In 2016, they did a big hip-hop production number titled “We Love the 90’s.” It was a mashup of popular music from the 90’s, starting with the Fresh Prince of Bel Air theme song. A lanky boy had kicked off the routine with a back handspring while the rest of the company in obnoxious 90’s costumes rocked behind him by the sike. Keith’s eyes were instantly on him for the rest of the routine because his energy was almost palpable through the screen. This boy was all smiles and sass and for this 3, almost 4-minute routine, Keith had never seen a better performer. Even when other dancers were supposed to be featured, Keith’s eyes were glued to this one boy.

  
So, he sought him out in every routine. Some of them he wasn’t in and through these videos, Keith started to kind of figure out the layout of the company’s structure. They had three or four groups within the team with them most likely being a senior company of sorts, a junior level, and then a younger kid team. The boy seemed to dance at the highest level because those were the most intense dances. They had turning combinations and crazy switch leaps and pretty cool stunts as well. They also had the most chemistry and flow. Every dance was fun and entertaining and almost impossibly in sync and Keith could tell it wasn’t because it had been drilled into them. Blood, sweat, and tears had been poured into these routines and Keith could see it even through shitty video quality.  
One of the videos happened to be the boy’s solo. Sadly, there wasn’t a name attached to the video but that didn’t stop Keith from being hypnotized by his movement. It was a contemporary solo and he wore black joggers and no shirt. Fuck the guy was toned. Most dancers were but that coupled with how pretty the guy was in general made Keith’s poor gay heart clench tightly in his chest. When the song started to play, Keith didn’t instantly recognize it which was a really good sign. Every year, there are like 5 solo songs that everyone uses and it would make Keith cringe whenever a studio used one of those songs.

  
About thirty seconds in, Keith had recognized it as “I Found” by Amber Run. He had played around with it a little bit in the past and was intrigued by how this choreographer was going to use the music. Where Keith had heard all the sharp beats, the boy seemed to flow through the song with the grace and ease of water. The boy’s head would snap on a ding! and would let that lead his body into the next series of moves. Everything flowed and rippled and his accents were subtle yet perfectly timed. It was so different, yet so similar in a strange way, to how Keith danced that he was utterly entranced.

  
With group numbers, it was hard to see individual styles. They came out in little moments but the main point of a multi-person dance was to do the same things. In a solo, however, it was entirely about this sole person’s style. A good choreographer could adapt to whoever they were choreographing for and this guy obviously had a fantastic choreographer or at least someone who knew him really well. Nothing felt stilted or forced the way many solos felt. Each movement was entirely his own and he owned the entire routine with such confidence that Keith wanted to step through the screen and dance with him. That energy was something Keith wanted in his life even if he would never admit it out loud.  
Then lo and behold, the same boy from the videos stepped into his audition room and was being introduced to him as Lance and damn he was even prettier in his person. How could one person have eyes that blue and shoulders that broad? Up until that point, his audition had been going great. He had nailed his audition piece and Allura had been really nice. Shiro had apparently already talked him up and he couldn’t help but sigh. He had wanted to make his own impression and leave his own mark on his place. It was bad enough being a legacy kid at school, he didn’t want to be one here too. He wasn’t some mini Shiro and refused to let people think that of him though. Then his chance came in the form of improving with a stunningly beautiful stranger. That’s what he was. A stranger. No matter how many videos Keith watched of him dancing, he still didn’t know this guy and he felt his walls building up at the thought.  
Yet, they couldn’t get very high because Lance seemed to radiate calm. He took the whole thing in stride, shrugging after Keith had agreed. Maybe this was completely natural for him, Keith honestly didn’t know. Watching Lance’s half-assed stretching made his fists clench though. That’s how someone got hurt and he was annoyed at Allura for letting him do it. It had taken everything in Keith not to say something and had simply forced his teeth together to prevent the words from slipping out. Allura had hit play on the music and suddenly Keith was at ease again.  
Sam Smith was no stranger to him. This song had become an old friend by now and Keith could feel his muscles easing into it. Lance started and Keith watched, waiting for an opening. He saw his chance, took it, and the rest had blurred from there. Their spontaneous routine passed by in blurred movements and vivid bursts of contact. Legs on his waist, Lance’s fingers delicately on his cheek, Keith’s hands splayed on Lance’s chest as he sunk to the floor. They pushed and pulled, creating an energy around him that Lance had to have felt. It was thick and heavy in the air and Keith had never felt anything like it before. He craved that feeling again, that pure sense of dance, and as soon as it was gone, Keith wanted it back. With Lance’s head in his lap, he refused to pull away out of fear of cutting that energy with a knife. This must be the energy Lance danced with all the time. Seeing it, feeling it, in person was nothing compared to watching it on YouTube. But nothing ever is.  
Keith had known he was going to see Lance on Monday- they had ballet and contemporary on Mondays- but he didn’t think he was going to see him at 8:10 in the morning. Lance was leaning over someone’s desk and if Keith happened to see how his ass looked particularly nice in the jeans he was wearing, then who could blame him? Looking around, Keith tried to see if someone else could help him but the only non-empty desk seemed to be the one Lance was currently bracing himself on so Keith resigned himself to wait and be really late to class. He had planned on picking up his schedule with enough time to make his way to his first class but no one had told him he would have to go on a scavenger hunt for it.

  
“See, that’s what I thought! But apparently, the new rumor is that there’s a hockey rink in the basement.” Keith’s brain tuned in to what Lance was talking about and he was instantly confused. This school had a hockey team?

  
Someone- probably the person behind Lance- snorted. “Freshman will believe anything won’t they?” Had anyone else said this, Keith would have rolled his eyes, but they sounded so nice even Keith couldn’t get mad. It was a sweet, feminine voice Keith figured was perfect for dealing with annoyed parents on a day to day basis. Who could get mad at someone with a voice like that? Keith could. Lance wasn’t actually doing anything important and Keith needed to talk to whoever sat behind that desk.

  
“Excuse me,” Keith said. Lance didn’t seem to hear him. “Hello,” Keith tried again, voice more irritated than before. Still, Lance didn’t acknowledge his voice and Keith forced himself to take a deep breath in through his nose. “Is anyone home?” He asked louder and more annoyed. That got his attention.

  
Lance turned, “Oh, sorry.” For a second, Lance’s face was a generic face of apology but Keith saw the moment he recognized him. “Keith! What are you doing here?”

  
“Keith Kogane?” The lady behind the desk asked. He nodded, attention momentarily diverted from Lance. “You must be here for your schedule.”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“Did you go to the main office?” Keith didn’t respond but that seemed to be enough of an answer for her anyway. She chuckled and Keith didn’t feel quite as embarrassed anymore. “That’s alright, everyone does that. I don’t know why they don’t tell people to come here instead.” She didn’t seem to be looking for a reply so Keith didn’t offer one. The lady- her nameplate said Ms. Luxia- handed him a blue piece of paper and sure enough it had his class list on it. “Welcome to Arus, Mr. Kogane.”

  
“Thanks,” he mumbled scanning the paper. He vaguely remembered signing up for these classes but he didn’t recognize all of them. His credits from his last school didn’t completely transfer so he knew he’d be in at least one junior level class to make sure he could graduate but he honestly couldn’t care less. Keith was just here to get his degree so he could go to college. He only cared about the stupid hierarchy of high school when dumb freshman ran into him in the hallways because they were lost. Fuck… Was Keith going to be as bad as a freshman?

  
With nimble fingers, Keith’s schedule got plucked from his grasp. Startling, Keith looked up to see Lance scrutinizing the schedule. “What the hell?” Keith tried to grab the paperback but Lance had an insanely tight grip on the paper.

  
“Language,” Ms. Luxia said but there was nothing behind it.

  
“Hold on a second,” Lance muttered, the tip of his tongue peeking out between his lips. If he wasn’t so annoyed Keith would have found it cute. “We have two classes together! Third period Spanish and sixth-period history.” Lance smiled at him from over the top of his schedule and Keith felt himself soften at the sight.  
It would be nice to have someone he knew in class with him. He had expected to be completely alone and live life alone as usual.

“Oh… That’s cool,” Keith replied, accepting the schedule back from Lance. Their fingertips brushed, causing a flash of heat to race through him, and Keith yanked his hand away quickly. A flash of hurt seemed to cross Lance’s face but Keith didn’t think much of it; he must be imagining it. For period one, Keith had AP Physics 1 in classroom C102. He had absolutely no idea where that was and the idea of wandering around trying to find the class made him groan. He would eventually figure it out, he just hated the idea of looking confused. Glancing back over at Lance, an idea begrudgingly came to him. “Hey… uh, would you show me where my classes are?” Asking for help had never been Keith’s forte and he had to choke the words out.

  
A brilliant smile appeared over Lance’s face. “Sure!” A polite cough came from behind them and Lance whipped his head to Ms. Luxia. “If that’s okay with you,” he added quickly.

  
She smiled as he hands began to fly over her keyboard. “I’ll send an email to your first-period teacher Keith to let them know you’ll be late.”

  
Keith felt an intense appreciation for this lady. “Thanks.”

  
“Your welcome.” There was a soft smile on her face that Keith found himself mimicking. Then Lance had a hand wrapped around his wrist and he couldn’t think of anything else. Lance dragged him out of the office doors and sadly, dropped his wrist to start walking down the hallway. Apparently, Arus was set up like two squares on top of each other with an extra addition on the bottom floor for the gyms and things like that. There were four lunch periods that depended on your 5th and 6th period. “We have C lunch for 6th,” Lance said, glancing back at Keith over his shoulder. Fuck, Keith didn’t know he was gay for that kind of look but here he was.

  
Keith tried to listen intently as he and Lance wandered around the school. He made a mental note of what each of his classes looked like but most of the little notes Lance had about the school flew right over his head. “Our dance team is the worst but they try their best so we try to be as supportive as possible,” Lance was saying. “I tried out for the team freshman year but ended up dropping because it was really bad and conflicted with Voltron too much.” Keith hummed in agreement. He knew what that was like; he had had no friends at his old school mainly because he couldn’t do anything because of dance. Dance had always been and will always be his life so he prioritized it over friends every day. “I’m excited for you to be on the team by the way. You’re pretty good,” Lance said, slowing down to walk shoulder to shoulder with Keith. Keith felt his cheeks warm and he turned his head to look at the posters plastered on the wall.

  
“Oh… thanks. You’re not half bad yourself.” Lance rolled his eyes, bumping his shoulder into Keith’s. Keith may not understand a lot of social cues but even he could pick up on the deeper compliment in Lance’s words and Lance could apparently do the same. Maybe it was a guy thing- it was more likely a Keith thing- but he had never been very good at expressing his true feelings. He didn’t like feeling warm and mushy, vulnerable and open. Emotions were kept on lockdown, coming out in fits of anger or rebellious moments of softness. “Can you tell me about it? Voltron, I mean.”

  
It was impossible to miss the way Lance brightened up. He seemed to shine and glow at the thought of his studio and Keith found himself drawn to it. “Hell yeah, I can. Voltron is the competitive team for the Castle of Lions but you know that already. We compete at about five or six competitions a year, some of them federated and some of them not. It kind of depends on what Allura and Coran are feeling.”

  
“Who’s Coran?” He knew that Allura owned the studio but he hadn’t heard of the other man.

  
“He’s Allura’s dad. Well, her other dad. He helps run the behind the scenes of the studio. Allura is the face of the Castle but without Coran, she wouldn’t be able to do half the things she does. Coran is really involved though; he’s kind of like everyone’s crazy uncle,” Lance said, chuckling. Then he turned to Keith with a very serious face. “If you’re ever mean to Coran, you will be kicked off the team.”

  
“What?” He must be joking. Lance’s face, however, was unwavering with its deadly expression and tight jaw.

  
“It’s an unspoken rule. Of course, Allura wouldn’t actually kick you out but you will be simultaneously hazed and shunned until you decide to leave the studio.”  
Keith gulped. Holy shit. “Has that ever happened before?”

  
“Once,” Lance said calmly, leaning into Keith’s space just a little too far. Keith felt very gay and very scared at the same time. “I’d rather not see it happen a second time.” His voice was very low, almost a whisper, and Keith felt it ripple down his spine. “Alright then! On to seventh period!” Keith felt like he had just suffered from whiplash with how quick Lance’s emotions changed. He was still reeling from the dark intensity and he was left scrambling to try and catch up with Lance’s long strides.

  
“There are some other things you should probably know. One: there are four different companies. We have the senior team- my team- the teen team which we normally just call the teens, junior company, and the minis. You’re going to be on the senior team with me, Hunk, Pidge, Olia, Plaxum, and Florona. It’s great your joining because it’s-”

  
“-so much easier to choreograph with odd numbers,” Keith chimed in. That was a basic fact every dancer knew. You could do pyramids and staggered lines without having one random outlier mess everything up. Partnering got a bit difficult but it was always easy enough to have a trio or a solo for a section.

  
Lance smiled softly and Keith’s heart thudded in response. “Yeah, exactly.” A silence fell over them as they walked up a staircase Keith was fairly sure they had walked up before. Despite the fact this was supposed to be a tour, Keith hadn’t been paying very much attention to anything beyond his very energetic tour guide.

“What’s number two?” Keith prompted, once he had grown tired of the silence. Keith hated silence and normally, he would fill it with some kind of music or in this case, Lance’s voice.

“What? Oh! Right, number two: it isn’t all about winning.”

“What kind of studio doesn’t want to win?”

Lance waved a hand dismissively in the air. “Of course we want to win but if we don’t, it’s not the end of the world for us. Some studios,” he said it in such a way that Keith knew he meant one specific studio, “face serious repercussions if they don’t win but we aren’t like that. We’re more than that. Allura has us perform at community and charity events. Once, we were closing ceremonies for a national suicide prevention walk.” Keith nodded, impressed. “It was really fucking cool. I mean, not suicide but the dancing. Ugh,” Lance groaned, “you know what I mean.”

Keith chuckled. “Yeah, I do. It’s kind of strange though, the whole ‘not being all about winning’ thing.”

“Why? If it’s all about winning for you then you’re gonna have some really rough culture shock.”

He scratched the back of his neck, searching for the words. “It’s not all about winning, it’s just, with my last studio winning was the main focus. We competed to win and that was that. At first, I got super into it but over the years, I got bored.”

Lance grinned, laughing a little bit. “Well then, Keith, you’ve come to the right place because we are never boring. Which leads us to point number three: we are a family. Above every possible variable, Voltron is a family. Our team names are just labels up to a certain point. The seniors are role models for the minis and the teens and juniors work so closely together, they’re basically one big team. We don’t do any of that hierarchy shit. We aren’t better than the teens, we just have more experience than them. Voltron lifts each other up and supports one another. We laugh together, mess up together, win and lose together. If one of us wins, we all win.”

An unfamiliar warmth bloomed in Keith’s chest. Lance believed so strongly, so passionately in this idea of family and it made Keith long to be a part of it. It had been years since he had had something resembling a family and now here was one right in front of him. Keith had never been much of a team player but maybe, for these people- for Lance- he could be. He wanted to be one.

“Eighth period?” Lance asked voice dropped a level. It was soft and Keith didn’t want to hear anything else ever.

“Eighth period.” Lance smiled and then headed off. Keith took a moment, admiring Lance’s broad stretch of shoulders. His heart tapped out an off-rhythm beat.

Lance turned back to face him. “You coming mullet?”

“Mullet?”

Lance walked back to tug on the ends of Keith’s hair. He was so close, too close, impossibly close. “See? Mullet,” he murmured and goosebumps appeared lightly on Keith’s arms. Maybe it was his imagination but Keith saw Lance’s eyes drop to his lips for just a moment. They existed in a tiny bubble, a private moment. Keith could feel the heat radiating off Lance's body and he desperately wanted to sink into it, just for a moment. He wanted to feel those arms he knew to be so strong wrap around him and hold him close. He longed to feel the safety he was sure they carried within them. Keith longed to be vulnerable, if only for a moment. They were so close their breaths mingled and if Keith leaned in a bit further, if he was a bit braver, they could kiss.

  
Because of that, Keith took a step away, running his hands through his hair with his eyes focused on the floor to hide the warmth in his cheeks. “It’s not a mullet,” he protested weakly.

“Sure it isn’t,” Lance said, voice thick. He cleared it, then gripped Keith’s hand. Before he had any chance to react, Lance was pulling him off in the direction of AP English Literature. While logically, Keith knew he was going towards a 12th-grade English class, it felt like so much more. There was something building here, the foundations of a future Keith couldn’t wait to see. All because of Lance McClain and the energy that rolled off of him in waves. His broad shoulders and brilliant smile and stunning eyes made Keith feel dizzy but in the best way possible. He felt light-headed and a little confused but the one thing he knew was that he was going to keep this boy in his life.

Suddenly, Keith’s mind was flashing back to the video of Lance’s solo that he found; the one that took Keith’s breath away just thinking about. The solo that had showcased all the beauty under the performer, the control, and precision under the showy and overdramatic. The solo that convinced him that the Castle of Lions was where he was meant to be.

_“And I found love where it wasn’t supposed to be_   
_Right in front of me_   
_Talk some sense to me.”_


	3. Sing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk and Pidge appear! The author doesn't really remember how bowling works!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thanks for reading!  
> I think this is the longest chapter I've ever written for a fic. I hope it's good.  
> When I started this, I thought that I could do slow burn but I can't! So yay for feelings!  
> Anyway, comments and kudos are super super appreciated and make my day so please leave them if you'd like. Also, if there are any things I should fix please let me know because I want to make the best fic possible for you guys.  
> Update schedule: Probably every other Sunday unless I have the chapter ready earlier.

One thing that dancers know is how brutal rehearsals are. They seem to stretch on forever, every joint in your body hurts, and there’s a weird smell of feet and sweat in the air that your nose eventually becomes numb to. However, rehearsals aren’t always bad. It’s not so bad when you’re stuck with some of your best friends in a room for three hours. It’s like working on a group project that everyone actually wants to work on. Pidge, Hunk, and Lance were currently stretching and had a long day ahead of them. Blaytz was off somewhere and Lance took the opportunity to play some of his own music. The Cheetah Girls soundtrack was blasting through the speakers and Lance was shouting along the lyrics. Every once in a while, his friends joined in.

  
“I’m really glad we all decided to be dancers,” Pidge commented. Lance scoffed, offended.

  
“Excuse you, I am a fantastic singer.”

  
“Maybe in your dreams Lance.” Lance flicked her off but there was a smile on both of their faces. This was always how their relationship had been. Pidge was like another sister to him and Pidge had once let it slip that she thought of Lance as another, very obnoxious big brother. Lance would ruffle her hair and Pidge would punch his arm playfully but there was a deep love in every middle finger and curse would they flung.

  
The three of them were working on their regularly scheduled trio. Ever since they were young, Hunk, Pidge, and Lance had been dancing together. It was like they were fated to come together and perform. Lance was the showman, all smiles, and winks to the judges that they just ate up. Hunk was the strongman who helped them do all their lifts and without him, their routines would fall apart. Hunk had told him once that he felt like he didn’t add anything to the group and that Pidge and Lance would be better off finding someone else to learn the choreography.

  
Hearing that had broken Lance’s heart. Without Hunk, their dances would be irrelevant and insignificant. He was more than a base for lifts; he was the anchor and whenever Lance got too much or Pidge needed the extra push to work through whatever was going on in her brain, Hunk was there. During rehearsals, he kept Pidge and Lance from jumping at each other’s throats over stupid things. His brain absorbed choreography like a goddamn sponge. Everyone at their studio appreciated Hunk a stupid amount and if Lance had to tell Hunk that every day then he would.

  
Pidge was their flier. She was tiny compared to Hunk and Lance and they could fling her around like a rag doll. However, she was also one of the most precise dancers Lance had ever seen. Each movement was carefully placed and repositioned to create intricate patterns and waves. Watching Pidge dance felt like playing Operation; there was so much care and precision put into her routines. While she could stun people with the crazy isolations she could do, Pidge was much of a showman as Lance was just in a different way. Her energy was low and sunk into the floor, creeping up their spines and putting them on the edge of their seats. As she slid and moved and stomped on stage, people caught their breath and waited to see which way her body flipped next.

  
Apart, they were great dancers. They could hold their own on a stage all by themselves and they had done it multiple times. People would watch them with baited breath while they performed their solos and it was an amazing feeling. Together though, they were fantastic. They were unstoppable. Together they created magic and told stories and captivated audiences for 2 and a half minutes. The energy was electric when they danced together and he had never felt anything like it.  
Well… that used to be the case. The only thing that had ever felt close to dancing with his friends was dancing with Keith.

  
God, he had to stop thinking about Keith. It was only going to end in disaster for Lance and he didn’t want to get his heart broken again. He fell fast and hard and he always got himself hurt in the end. It was his senior year; he didn’t want to put himself through that again. Even if it did turn out to be nothing more than a silly little crush, Lance didn’t trust himself to not make it more than it actually was. His mind was really good about blowing up things that didn’t matter.

  
“What are you thinking about?” Pidge asked with a tone and a smirk that made Lance know she knew exactly what he was thinking about. Or who he was thinking about rather.

  
Lance groaned throwing himself out of his butterfly stretch and onto his back. “Oh, shut up.”

  
“Yeah, let’s not talk about this okay? I’ve already had to hear extensively about how nice his butt looks and how pretty he is when he dances,” Hunk teased, shoving his foot into Lance’s side. He reached out with a hand, half-heartedly trying to swat at him.

  
“Oh my God, leave me alone. I’m never telling you guys anything ever again.”

  
Pidge snorted. “That’ll be the day.”

  
“You guys suck.” Above him, Hunk appeared with his hand stretched out and he rolled his eyes but accepted the hand anyway. Hunk looped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close and Lance couldn’t help but smile. Pidge snuck her arms around his waist and rocked them all so they swayed back and forth. Laughter bubbled out of their chests and Blaytz walked in on a group of almost hysterical teenagers which truthfully, wasn’t all that surprising in this studio.

  
“Alright guys, let’s get started. Do you want to run it once while I pretend to be really engaged in Facebook?” The trio nodded feverishly. Blaytz chuckled and pulled up the music as Lance, Hunk, and Pidge headed to their opening spots for the number. Lance slid across the floor on his tap shoes, coming to a stumbling spot dead center with Hunk on his right and Pidge on his left. They both seemed to have a kind of nervous energy and Lance felt the same thing deep in his bones. For the first time, they would be doing a tap trio. Normally, they did hip-hop or jazz routines. Once, they tried to do a sad contemporary but none of them could take each other seriously enough so Allura morphed it into an edgier routine about a battle between a human, an angel, and a devil.

  
Lance’s taps rattled against the floor, nervous energy pooling in his right toe. Hunk placed a comforting hand on his bicep and Lance’s toe stopped moving. He wanted this to go really well. He knew it wouldn’t- the first time never did- but, he longed to be the best. He longed to be _good_.

  
Suddenly, “Sing” by Ed Sheeran was playing and Lance was in the zone. His muscle memory took over and he was moving. The sounds and rhythms were natural and instinctive from all the hours of practice he had put into this- not just with his friends, but on his own as well. Whenever he was having a particularly shitty day, Lance would send a text to Allura, slip into the studio and practice. He would tap out all his anger, dance out all his sadness and frustration and every other explosive feeling that threatened to tear him apart. He punched, kicked, bled, and sweat until he felt more like himself.

  
With his arms out naturally to his side, Lance’s feet began to move of their own accord. Tap wasn’t as showy as he was used to but Lance always found a way to put on a show. In a brief moment of suspension, he sent a wink towards invisible judges before falling into the next step with his friends. They moved in almost perfect harmony. Pidge messed up the rhythm tap turn and Hunk was a bit too quick on his solo part but beyond that, the group of friends was killing this routine. While they all knew that Blaytz was going to find a million things to correct, the trio found themselves living in this brief minute of perfection. There was nothing except their taps, their sounds, and their friends.

  
When they ran out of choreography, the group busted out laughing. “Oh, that was awesome!”

  
Pidge sniffed, pushing her glasses up higher on her nose. “I wouldn’t say awesome but it was pretty damn close.”

  
Lance rolled his eyes. “Can’t you ever let yourself just live in the moment Pidge?” She fixed him with a look that clearly meant no. He laughed before turning to his teacher who was observing them with a fond expression. “So teach, what’d we do wrong?”

  
Blaytz shrugged, pushing off the mirror he had been resting on. “Honestly? Not that much.” Behind Lance, Hunk cheered.

  
“Really?”

  
“Yes, really. This routine has shaped up a lot better than I thought it would. I’m pleasantly surprised,” Blaytz said with a chuckle. Lance grinned and he felt Pidge grip his forearm in excitement. There was always this fear that whatever the dancers put on the floor wasn’t going to be enough for their teachers. Their teachers were being judged just as much as the dancers so they drilled perfection into their students. Achieving perfection on the first go was unheard of. Yet that was what was exactly expected of them at competitions. “But there are still things we need to fix and we need to finish the routine. You guys ready?”

  
They nodded and Blaytz took his spot in front of the group, his taps clicking against the floor. The three of them spread out behind him and prepared for his corrections and choreography.

  
An hour passed and then another and Lance could feel his energy draining out of him. This routine took up so much of his energy with trying to stay on rhythm but also exciting to watch that his normal stamina had faded hours earlier than normal. They only had half an hour left to go through; Lance could hold on for that long. Luckily, they had finished the routine today and from now on, it would only be cleaning and tweaking minor things. Lance always felt incredibly accomplished when he finished a dance but now he was tired and wanted to go home. Well, he wanted to go home and take a shower.

  
“Hey, are we still on for tonight?” Pidge asked, wiping a towel over her face. She slung it over her neck and Lance nodded.

  
“Hell yeah, we are.”

  
“Language!” Blaytz called and Lance murmured an apology. That was one way they were different, Lance and Blaytz. His teacher was adamantly against swearing and said it was dirty and made us lesser people. Lance just thought it was fun.

  
“Bowling right?” Hunk asked. Pidge confirmed it and Lance couldn’t help but smile. Saturday nights were hang-out nights and the three of them always did something together. Sometimes, they would invite other people but more often than not, it was just the trio. Lance had complained about how no one would ever hang out with them once to Plaxum and she had only laughed. Apparently, the trio was very intimidating to hang out with.

  
“Intimidating? Me? Hunk is not intimidating,” Lance had sputtered. She had placed a hand on his forearm and squeezed it almost condescendingly.

  
“You guys are really close. It’s hard to fit in with that sometimes. All the inside jokes and whatnot.” God, she was so nice that even when she was kind of insulting him, Lance couldn’t even think about being mad at Plaxum.

  
“Damn, I’m sorry Plax. I didn’t- we didn’t- mean to make you or anyone feel like that,” Lance said, eyes downcast. She squeezed him again and he looked back up to her bright, shining eyes. She was really pretty and once, Lance had thought he liked her but much like Pidge, Plaxum was nothing more than a sister. He cared about her so much but only platonically.

  
“Hey, don’t beat yourself up about it! Anyone would be really jealous and/or really lucky to have a friendship like you, and Hunk and Pidge has.” She said it so kindly, so genuinely, that Lance couldn't help but let it go. She was right, he was very lucky to have his friends.

  
It was moments of like this that he realized just how lucky he was. There were a lot of inconsistencies in his life but these two people would never be inconsistent. He trusted these people more than almost anyone and he would probably die for them. Hopefully, he’d never have to but should the situation arise, he’d most definitely die for Hunk and Pidge.

  
“Pidge do you need me to pick you up?” Hunk asked and Pidge beamed at him. Lance would have offered to drive but Pidge had told him in very clear detail just how much she hated his driving the last time he had driven her somewhere. They had been going to a competition and once they arrived Pidge had turned to him, face blank, and told him she thought she was going to die.

  
Lance turned, twisting to stretch his back and happened to catch a glimpse of a black mullet. “Mullet!” Lance cried and the head of hair stopped and looked back in through the cracked studio door. Hunk had cracked it open an hour ago because the room had gotten too damn hot even with just four of them. Lance grinned and Keith stared back in what seemed to be confusion. His stupid hair was pulled back into a ponytail and he had on those damn joggers that made his butt look stupidly good.

  
Lance felt very torn when it came to Keith. On one hand, he was very pretty to look at. His skin was flawless and Lance was pretty sure that his hair would be really soft to run his fingers through. At school, he was quiet and kind of a loner but when Lance finally roped him into a conversation, he’d have this small, barely there smile that would make Lance’s heart skip a beat. Well- he was reserved most of the time. It was his second day of school and Lance and Keith had been in Spanish and this kid was being an asshole about using gender-neutral pronouns after one of their teachers had mentioned something about gender-neutral Spanish pronouns. The kid had sneered at the question, saying “There are only two genders. Anyone who thinks otherwise is dumb as hell.” Standard cis people bullshit.  
Keith turned away from the “get to know me” paper their teachers had made him fill out and regarded the asshole with a cool stare that made Lance’s blood run cold. He could see the restraint in Keith’s clenched fists and tight jaw. He wanted to blow up at the guy but he was forcing himself to try and remain calm. “It’s not that fucking hard to respect someone’s pronouns. It’s a hell of a lot easier to respect those then assholes like you.”

  
Somewhere in the classroom, someone whispered a soft, “Oh shit.” Asshole had whirled on Keith so fast, clearly unused to someone telling him ‘no.’ Lance kind of recognized him from freshman English but there was probably a reason his brain had squashed this guy out of his memories.

  
“And who the hell are you?” The guy had demanded oh so eloquently. “What makes you think you can fucking talk to me like that?” Oh. Lance remembered that this guy was on the lacrosse team. He had a few friends on the team as well and all of them were chill and they all seemed to agree that this guy- Tyler Forks- was the literal worst. “I can respect whatever the hell I want and I’m not gonna play into this liberal bullshit. It isn’t real.” Lance groaned, dropping his head into his hands for a brief moment. He wanted to say something but his mind was overwhelmed with just how stupid he sounded.

  
“Who do you think you are talking in general? You sound like a goddamn moron. So just sit your transphobic ass back down and stop making yourself look like even more of an idiot.” All of this was said with a thick layer of fake calm. It was clear to anyone in that room that Keith was on the edge of snapping and maybe Tyler knew that because after a brief moment of hesitation- Lance was worried Tyler was going to take Keith up on his offer- he sunk back down into his chair. Tyler was seething the whole class and looked like he was about to say something for the rest of class but never did.

  
After that, Lance felt his admiration grow immensely for Keith. At least he was an ally. Lance may not know if he was gay but the possibility was there. Lance didn’t know if he had a full-blown crush on the guy but there were definitely weird, twisting feelings in his heart that made it clench whenever Keith smiled or laughed his small, soft smile.

  
On the other hand, however, Keith was definitely Lance’s rival. Keith was the opposite of Lance in almost every way and seemed to excel at that. He was amazing to watch, his technique was stunning, and he could pick up choreographer almost as fast- faster- than Lance. Everything Lance thought he was good at was being usurped by this new guy and it made his blood boil. For years, he had struggled to get to where he was and he wasn’t going to have all his hard work ripped away within one week of Keith Kogane showing up to the studio.

  
“Oh, hey, Lance,” Keith said.

  
“Don’t leave him in the doorway Lance,” Blaytz called out from the other side of the studio and Lance gestured for Keith to enter the studio. He looked to the side and Allura stepped into view. She nodded and the pair entered the room: Allura confidently and Keith a little hesitant. “Do you want to see?” He asked and Allura nodded enthusiastically.

  
“Oh yes! I’m very excited to see how this routine has come together. I have a feeling it is going to be one of the best you three of done,” she says to the trio who has picked themselves up off the floor with varying groans. A sharp spike of anxiety shoots through him at her words but he forces it down. “Keith, do you mind if we delay our rehearsal for a few moments?” He shakes his head, arms crossed tight against his chest. He’s leaning against the mirror and Lance can’t help but admire the sharp planes of his figure. Keith is all geometric lines and sharp angles.

  
“Rehearsal for what?” Lance finds himself asking.

  
“I am getting Keith caught up on the routines to insert him into the pieces before our next team rehearsal.” Lance had to bite his tongue from saying something stupid. He wanted to say something stupid and probably would later but hopefully only in front of Hunk and Pidge. He wanted to say something about how it wasn’t fair Keith was getting put into routines they’d been working on for months or some bullshit about how they were all going to have to pick up his slack. But that was dumb and Lance didn’t feel like being an asshole right now.

  
They took their places and Blaytz nodded to them once before hitting play on the music again. By now, the beat of the music felt like his own heartbeat. The heavy strum of the guitar was his blood pounding through his veins and the lyrics were his own thoughts running quick and constant in his mind. Everything felt familiar and like home. Every step was habitual and he ran through them all with a practiced hand. The ending was a little clunk but those were new, just developed habits that haven’t been fully ingrained in him yet.

  
While he danced, Lance was hyper-aware of Keith’s eyes on him. They followed him and tracked every moment. He was moving too fast and was too focused on his routine to catch the expression on the other guy’s face but he hoped it was a good one. Normally, Lance would feel pressured and insecure under such scrutiny but he forced himself to use it to further his dancing. If Keith wanted something to watch, Lance was going to put on a show.

  
He had no energy left in his body but he dug some up from the deep recesses of his mind and powered through the last thirty seconds of the number. His feet flew and his heart was pumping but the change in the air was palpable. Now Lance was giving it his all and the difference was subtle but completely noticeable at the same time. The sounds of his taps were that much clearer and his arms were sharper and more purposefully placed. Pidge and Hunk seemed to feed off his energy, increasing their own precision for the final stretch.

  
When the dance ended, Allura broke into furious applause. “That was fantastic! I’m so proud of you three. It’s moments like these when I really get to see how much you’ve grown as dancers.” Lance grins at her feeling an immense swell of pride. “It was very good at first but in the last few moments, something changed. It was especially noticeable in you Lance,” Allura said with her accent putting an ‘o’ instead of an ‘a’ in his name. He blushed and hoped she would mistake it for exertion. Hunk nudged his shoulder with his own and Lance didn’t have to see the devilish grin on his friends face to know it was there. “Blaytz, you’re choreography is fantastic as always.”

  
“Ah, thanks. I’ve got great people to teach,” he sends a wink to the trio and they all can’t help but smile.

  
Lance turns to Keith expectantly, anxious energy rocking through his body. He shouldn’t care what Keith thinks but he does and the guy has been scarily quiet. Lance wasn’t expecting him to jump for joy or openly hate it but, he needed something. “So?” He prompts. “What did you think?”

  
Keith startled like he hadn’t been expecting anyone to talk to him. “Oh um, it was good. Really good.” It was barely a sentence but still, Lance’s heart was soaring up into his throat. He had to turn his face to Pidge to hide the warmth in his cheeks. Pidge smirked at him knowingly and ducked out of the way to avoid Lance’s hand hitting the back of her head.

  
“Well, we will let you wrap this up. Thank you for letting us watch!” Allura said to Blaytz and left the room with one last smile in the trio’s direction. Keith followed behind a moment later but right before he left, his eyes caught Lance’s. For a moment, time didn’t matter. There was something indecipherable burning in those violet-grey eyes and Lance wanted nothing more than to figure out what it was. Keith smiled- soft and shy and everything Keith wasn’t- and Lance forgot how to breathe. Then Keith was gone and the world caught up around him.

  
Lance felt dizzy but in the best way possible. Hunk looped an arm around Lance’s shoulders, supporting him. “God, I’m so gay,” Lance whispered and felt Hunk’s laughter vibrate in his chest.

  
“I thought you were bi.”

  
“Yeah, that too.” Lance sighed, deep and dramatic, and pushed himself away to stand on his own feet.

  
“How about we run it one more time then call it a day?” Blaytz asked and they nodded, forcing down groans at the words. When dance teachers said one more time, it was never actually one more time. But honestly, Lance could have done it a hundred more times and he would have been fine as that one moment would have carried Lance through the tired fatigue that was settling deep in his bones. Something heavy and waiting was in that look. Lance was not a patient person but maybe that something was worth waiting for.

\-----------------

_**To: Keith Kogane** _

**<** Hey! pidge, hunk and i are gonna go  
bowling tongiht and we wanted to  
know if ud wanna come too  
**<** oh, it’s lance btw

  
**>** I know it’s you Lance

  
**<** oh. Sorry. i didnt know if u had me save in ur phone

 

**>** why wouldn’t I?

  
**<** good point.  
**<** so? bowling? what do u say?

  
**>** why me? we aren’t close.

  
**<** i know thats the whole POINT mullet  
**<** we wanna get to know the new guy

  
**>** why do you keep calling my hair  
a mullet? Its not a mullet

  
**<** yes it is but thats not the point  
**<** pleeassee come bowling. It’ll be fun!  
Its basically team bonding but with four of us  
Instead of all seven

  
**>** im really shitty at bowling

  
**<** 1\. i dont believe that  
**<** 2\. pidge and hunk are really bad too so dw

  
**>** no i really am bad. And does  
that mean that you arent bad?

  
**<** i kick ass at bowling. Its really cheap so my  
Family would always go when we all got together  
For like holidays and stuff

  
**>** oh. Cool.

**<** yeah.

**<** ok so we’re meeting at 7:30 at the bowling alley  
In dale city

  
**>** i didn’t say I was going

  
**<** see you then!!!

  
**>** lance wait i didn’t agree to this

  
**<** bye!!

  
**>** ...  
**>** is it always like this with you guys?

  
**<** oh yeah absolutely

  
**>** great.  
**>** see you at 7:30

  
**<** :D

\------------------------

By the time Lance showed up at the alley, Pidge and Hunk had already secured a lane. He bought his shoes and quickly added himself to their lane. When he walked over to their lane- 12- after picking up his bowling ball, he saw Pidge adding his name to the list. “Hey, loverboy!” She called, attention still fixed on the screen.

  
“Hey,” he replied, sitting down on the chair next to Hunk to switch his shoes. Around him, sounds of pins falling and cheering created a pleasant buzz in his chest. Lance loved bowling. It was one of the few places that Lance’s enormous family could all go and catch up and have fun together. There were so many memories stored in the lanes and 10-pound bowling balls that it would have taken years for Lance to explain them all. Bowling is good and fun and a much-needed break from the real world. Lance didn’t have to worry about calculus homework or the next day’s rehearsal when he is staring down the lane, trying to calculate the perfect strike.

  
Pidge sat down on a chair opposite Lance, legs swinging lazily so her toes brushed against the floor. “So, is Keith coming? I will start playing without his ass here,” she said. During their first class together, Pidge had taken an almost instant liking to Keith and they had gone across the floor together. When they were doing stuff center floor, Pidge dragged Keith to stand in the front with Lance and Hunk. Keith had looked so apprehensive about it but seemed to understand that trying to argue with Pidge was futile.

  
Lance shrugged before checking his phone. Keith hadn’t sent him a text saying he wasn’t coming but maybe he had changed his mind last minute and hadn’t said anything? “Oh, there he is,” Pidge said and Lance turned to where she was pointing behind him.

  
So, because of Keith, Lance had already decided that joggers should be made illegal. Now, he was going to have to add jeans to that list because how the hell does anyone look that good in pants. Lance had seen Keith in jeans at school but not these jeans. No, these jeans, were black with rips in them that were probably made from natural causes. They seemed to cling to the contours of his legs and Lance really wanted to die. He had a simple grey t-shirt on and what looked like a necklace of some kind hanging around his neck.

  
“Lance, are you okay?” Hunk asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

  
“Please murder me,” he said seriously, turning to Hunk with wide pleading eyes. Hunk laughed as Pidge snorted and muttered something about him being hopeless before hopping out of her seat to go meet Keith. Lance watched as they chatted casually while Keith bought his shoes and his games. He seemed so at ease and totally oblivious to the looks a group of girls was giving him. Either he didn’t care that these girls were totally checking him out or he really didn’t notice. What he did notice though, was Lance staring at him. Keith waved a hand in greeting and Lance spastically flung up a hand in response. Hunk laughed at him and continued to chuckle quietly even after Lance smacked him on the arm.

  
“Hey Keith,” Hunk said as Pidge and Keith sat down across from them.

  
“Hey.” What a man of words. “Hey, Lance.”

  
_Oh, fuck that’s me_. “Oh, hey Keith.” Casual. Nice. “You ready to get your ass kicked in bowling?” Competition is Lance’s safety zone. There is no weird grey area when it comes to winning; you either win or you don’t. He doesn’t have to second guess himself, he doesn’t have to try and read into things. Everything is laid out nice and clear.

  
Keith’s chest puffed out a bit and Lance grinned. Something he had learned about Keith early on is that Keith is just as competitive as Lance but not as quick to show it. Last week in jazz class, their teacher had had a fun little fouette competition. They had them all the time and no one except Lance took it very seriously. Then Keith showed up and suddenly Lance wasn’t alone in that.

  
“Does anyone want to try and beat Lance at this?” Their teacher had asked jokingly. Lance wasn’t particularly great fouettes but when he set his mind to something, he was determined as hell and wasn’t going to let anything stand in his way. As expected, everyone had fallen to the edges of the classroom. Everyone that is, except Keith. He stepped up beside Lance with an easy expression that meant he really didn’t know what he was getting himself into.

  
“Are you sure about this mullet?” Lance had taken a liking to calling Keith that, mostly because it seemed to irritate him.

  
Keith sighed, tugging on the ends of his hair. “It’s not a mullet.”

  
“Keep telling yourself that.”

  
“And yeah, I’m sure. I don’t know what the big deal is.”

  
On the outskirts, Pidge scoffed. “He’s annoying when he wants to win that’s what the big deal is.” Lance stuck his tongue out at her and she stuck hers right back out.

  
“Alright boys, you ready?” Lance and Keith nodded. In the mirror, Lance caught Keith’s eye and quirked a questioning eyebrow. It was ineffective and Keith kept his same, neutral expression. “Prep on 7, 8 okay?” Another nod and then their teacher was clapping out their 5,6,7,8.

  
Lance lost.

  
Keith wouldn’t admit it but he was excited he won. Lance could tell in the raised eyebrow and sly smirk he sent Lance after he landed his turns. It made Lance’s blood boil and would have demanded a rematch if their teacher hadn’t quickly moved on to the next step. Honestly, he probably moved on so fast because he knew Lance would want to try again. There were very few things Lance hated more than losing.

  
Keith seemed to have the same memory as Lance because a familiar smirk bloomed on Keith’s face. It made Lance’s chest clench and blood sing. “I don’t know Lance. You didn’t exactly kick my ass at the fouettes did you?”

  
Lance clenched his jaw and shot up from the seat to match Keith. Lance poked his chest. “Don’t forget you’re the one who told me you were shitty at bowling.”  
The smile on Keith’s face was so patronizing it made Lance want to scream. “Maybe I was just trying to make you feel better. Did you think of that or is your ego too big?” Lance would have been really hurt by the words if not for the playful tone of Keith’s voice. The insecurities in his brain were yelling at him to overthink it and that Keith did think Lance was arrogant but he refused to sink into that deep hole… for now.

  
“Oh, it’s on.” Lance hissed and stomped to the screen. No one had entered a nickname for Keith yet. “What do you want your name to be?” Lance asked over his shoulder, the competitive drive lowering to a low simmer. Keith walked over to look over Lance’s shoulder at the screen and he was suddenly very aware of how warm Keith seemed.

“Just Keith.” Pidge and Hunk booed.

  
“Boring! Pick something else!” Hunk called out and Keith threw a questioning glance his way.

  
“That’s my name. How is it boring?”

Pidge sighed, shaking her head. “Oh, my poor confused friend. When we bowl, we all pick different names to play with. Real names are for the real world and the bowling alley is not the real world.” Lance nodded in agreement. Time seemed to be suspended in an alley. It was the real-life version of the Lotus Casino. He tapped the screen which displayed their current names. Hunk was RckLvr4- long story-, Pidge was Rover and Lance was LvrBoy.  
Keith sighed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Fine then. How about Red?”

Lance huffed but typed it in any way. “We’ll work on it.” Keith seemed to be in his head, staring at the screen like he could melt it with just his vision and Lance bumped his shoulder into Keith’s to get him to relax. Violet-grey eyes snapped to his and Lance was simultaneously very glad and very regretful of his actions. How did he have such pretty eyes?

Movement caught Lance’s eye. Pidge was up first and was picking up her bright green ball. Keith cursed and then ran off to pick up the ball he had forgotten to grab. Pidge had stepped up onto the wood before the lane but turned to Lance with a shit-eating grin.

“What you gremlin?” Lance asked, immediately suspicious. That was never a good look for Pidge to be wearing.

“He likes you.”

Immediately, Lance was a sputtering, protesting mess. “Wh-what? He does not!”

“I think he does buddy,” Hunk agreed and Lance looked wildly between his best friends.

“We’ve known this guy for three weeks! How could you even possibly begin to know that?”

Pidge shrugged. “He acts differently when he’s talking to you.” A quick look at Hunk told Lance that he agreed with her. “He gets in your face. He talks. He never talks in class.” Lance wanted to argue with that but any argument in his head sounded weak. Lance had noticed that Keith talked to him the most out of anyone in their classes but he thought that was just because they had classes together at school.

“We don’t even know if he’s gay. Or bi. Or pan. Or whatever! He’s probably straight.”

Hunk snorted. “He is definitely not straight but go off I guess.”

“And how do you know that?”

Hunk leveled him with a pointed look. “What straight guy wears pants that tight?” Well, fuck. Hunk did have a point.

Lance sniffed. “Well, I’m not going to say anything or do anything until Keith tells me himself.”

“Until Keith tells you what?”

Lance screeched, jumping around. “Ah! Um, nothing?” Lance scratched the back of his neck and forced a smile onto his face. Keith just looked confused but shook his head and placed his ball on the belt. Lance wasn’t all that surprised to see that it was red. “Is red your favorite color?”

Keith nodded. “Yeah, it has been since I was a kid.”

“Nice. Mine’s blue.” Lance reached over and tapped the blue bowling ball.

“We’re opposites then.”

_Opposites attract._

“Yeah, I guess we are.” An easy silence fell over them until the clattering of pins disrupted them. Lance looked up at the screen and his eyes blew wide to see that Pidge had gotten a strike. The girl was jumping up and down and Lance rushed to spin her around. Pidge laughed, slapping at his arms to set her down.

“Yes! Go Pidge!” Hunk cheered and Lance ruffled her hair. At Keith’s confused look, Hunk explained. “Pidge never gets strikes. She thinks she can calculate the angle or some shirt but it never works. Well, almost never works.”

Pidge was grinning and it made Lance’s heart swell like the Grinch. Pidge was so sarcastic all the time that seeing such a genuinely happy smile made her seem so young. Lance often forgot that she was only 15. “You’re up Hunk!” Pidge called with a slightly smaller but still just as bright smile on her face. Pidge took her seat and Lance fell across from her, watching as Hunk grabbed his bright yellow ball.

Hunk got a spare, Lance got a strike to no one’s surprise and much to Lance’s dismay, Keith managed a spare. “I guess I’m not as shitty as I thought,” he commented casually and Lance huffed. Pidge laughed at his expense as she got up to take her next turn.

The night continued and they played game after game. Lance won the first one and they all had to bear witness to his winner dance. Hunk and Pidge simply rolled their eyes at Lance’s obnoxious movements but Keith had looked on in horrified curiosity. Once he was done, Keith said “Well that was horrible” and Lance shrieked out a protest.

After game two- which Hunk won but only because Lance and Keith were too busy trying to show one another up to actually play well- they ate some shitty alley pizza and disgusting cheese fries that they were all going to regret later and spent an embarrassing amount of money at the arcade that was tucked into the back corner of the building. Lance and Keith latched themselves onto the claw game while Hunk and Pidge played skee ball. They both knew trying to win anything at this game was stupid as hell but they were both stubborn enough to try.

In some weird series of events, Keith ended up grabbing the tail of a shark plushie and Lance had almost decapitated the head of a hippo. “Who puts hippo plushies in a claw game?” Lance wondered, inspecting his winnings.

“Hippos are the most dangerous creatures on land, why wouldn’t they put them in a claw game?” Keith huffed.

“Keith, buddy, my man, I think you proved just why they shouldn’t put them in a game for kids.”

“Well, sharks are the most terrifying creatures in the sea.”

“Fuck you, sharks are great.” A mother and child were passing by as Lance and she gasped, clasping her hands over the ears of her son. Lance blushed and muttered an apology. Keith was snickering and Lance threw the hippo at Keith. He caught it with ease then tossed the shark too Lance.

“Opposites,” Keith said with an impossibly soft smile that made Lance feel his insides feel like mush and his knees like Jello.

“Opposites.”

Soon after that, Pidge and Hunk dragged them away for their third and final game. It turned out to be down to the wire and if Lance wanted to win, he’d need a strike. Keith tried to distract him by calling him names or trying to get his attention for something really important but Lance simply smirked and tuned him out. When you grow up with four siblings, you get very good at ignoring very annoying people.

He took a deep breath to steady himself, then he bowled. His breath was caught in his throat as he watched the ball roll down the lane. Then he let it out in a massive whoop when all the pins clattered to the floor. Turning around, Pidge and Hunk seemed content with the outcomes of the game while Keith had sunk low in his chair with a pout. “Oh cheer up Keith,” Lance said with a light kick to his shin, “we can have a rematch another time.” Keith nodded with his lower lip still pushed out like a child.

The four of them began to pick up their things to let someone else use the lane. They pushed through the doors, the spell of the bowling alley slowly fading. Outside, the sky had started to fade to black but Lance didn’t feel tired. He considered asking the rest of his friends if they wanted to go eat some actual food or maybe some ice cream but one look at Pidge mid-yawn told to cut off the thought. Had he asked, Pidge would have powered through but he knew that she didn’t get enough sleep as is and he didn’t want to be the cause of her losing anymore. “Alright, I’m gonna get her home.” Pidge protested weakly but Hunk slapped a hand on her shoulder to steer her toward his car. “See you guys on Monday!”

“Bye!” Lance called as they disappeared into the parking lot. Lance sighed shoving his hands into his jeans. “So, I guess this is goodbye?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Keith said. Neither of them moved.

“Hey, would you wanna do something else? I don’t really want to go home right now.” He loved his family but they were so loud and attentive and in his face that sometimes, Lance needed a break.

“Me too.”

Lance found himself asking if everything was okay.

“Oh yeah, everything’s fine, it’s just I’m all alone in the house tonight and it’s too quiet.”

_Opposites._

“What are your feelings on pancakes?”

“If you’re asking if I could eat some pancakes right now, the answer is fuck yes.”

Lance beamed. “Awesome. I can text you the name of the place and I’ll meet you there?” Keith nodded and Lance took out his phone to quickly type out the message. “Alright, see you in a couple minutes.

“See you then,” Keith said and the two smiled once last time before splitting off towards different ends of the parking lot with warm, happy feelings in their chests. Nervous energy coursed through Lance but he took a deep breath and tried to quell it as best he could. It was pancakes. It was just breakfast food. But when it came to Keith, everything seemed to feel like more. Colors were brighter, sounds were louder, Lance felt _more_. It was scary in the best way possible. Keith Kogane felt like ziplining; when you stand on the edge, the nerves and anxiety builds up to the point of unbearable but once you take the leap of faith and jump, it’s better than anything you could have imagined.

Right now, Lance was teetering on the edge and that was okay. He was content with the fantasies he could conjure up in his mind of what it would be like to take that jump into the unknown. Eventually, though, Lance was going to take that risk and leap and all he could hope was that Keith would be there to catch him.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Thanks for reading! I think this may become a series of oneshots if there's any interest in that. I've never tried writing a one shot for Voltron before so let me know what you think.  
> The song Keith and Lance to is "HIM" by Sam Smith (Hence the title of the work).  
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated! Thank you!


End file.
